Thus the livelong day she listened;
Thus through all the night she waited;
Thus she watched for flight of arrow.
Naught she heard of twang of bowstring!
Naught she saw of feathered arrow!
Ere the light had touched old Homo,
Horror seized the young Tee-na-nay.
Climbing up, she gazed about her;
There the feast—but not Kos-su-ka!
Footsteps point to brink of Homo;
Slippery brink, a deadly pitfall!
Peering down—she moans in anguish!
Thus through all the night she waited;
Thus she watched for flight of arrow.
Naught she heard of twang of bowstring!
Naught she saw of feathered arrow!
Ere the light had touched old Homo,
Horror seized the young Tee-na-nay.
Climbing up, she gazed about her;
There the feast—but not Kos-su-ka!
Footsteps point to brink of Homo;
Slippery brink, a deadly pitfall!
Peering down—she moans in anguish!
In each other's arms they found them;
Spirits flown, and flown together!
And the feathered signal-arrow
Never fell upon the valley,
Never fell beside the Merced.
But (as wrinkled sachems whisper)
Sped into the purple twilight;
Sped beyond the mystic sunset,
With the souls of young Kos-su-ka
And his lovely bride Tee-na-nay;
Sped with them to happy meadows,
And the Manitou's tall wigwam.
Spirits flown, and flown together!
And the feathered signal-arrow
Never fell upon the valley,
Never fell beside the Merced.
But (as wrinkled sachems whisper)
Sped into the purple twilight;
Sped beyond the mystic sunset,
With the souls of young Kos-su-ka
And his lovely bride Tee-na-nay;
Sped with them to happy meadows,
And the Manitou's tall wigwam.
Nov. 1, 1919
1 A cliff 2,600 feet high, beside Yosemite Falls, Calif.
2 A small river in Yosemite Valley.
3 A ravine; Spanish for "Dry Creek."
4 Obsidian cliff; glass mountain, Yellowstone Park.
Giants of Mariposa
Giants on the lofty mountains,
Mountains clad with fir and maple,
All their branches heavy-laden,
Laden with the moss of ages.
Dense and dark where grow the monarchs,
Mighty monarchs towering heavenward,
Bearing cones on tossing branches,
Branches of the giant redwoods,
Here the redmen built their wigwams,
Wigwams made from bark of birchtree,
Covered o'er with heavy bearskins,
Fagots blazing in the wigwam.
Here Iago, arrow-maker,
Strong his bows and straight his arrows,
Arrows tipped with flint and jasper,
Bowstring made of tightened sinews,
Sinews of the deer and panther,
Dwelt beneath the giant redwoods,
With his faithful wife, Nakomis,
He the strong arm, mighty hunter,
Hunter of the bear and panther.
Minne-wawa, dusky maiden,
And Nakomis, in the forest,
Sang at eve, when shadows lengthened,
Sang beside the birchen wigwam.
Mountains clad with fir and maple,
All their branches heavy-laden,
Laden with the moss of ages.
Dense and dark where grow the monarchs,
Mighty monarchs towering heavenward,
Bearing cones on tossing branches,
Branches of the giant redwoods,
Here the redmen built their wigwams,
Wigwams made from bark of birchtree,
Covered o'er with heavy bearskins,
Fagots blazing in the wigwam.
Here Iago, arrow-maker,
Strong his bows and straight his arrows,
Arrows tipped with flint and jasper,
Bowstring made of tightened sinews,
Sinews of the deer and panther,
Dwelt beneath the giant redwoods,
With his faithful wife, Nakomis,
He the strong arm, mighty hunter,
Hunter of the bear and panther.
Minne-wawa, dusky maiden,
And Nakomis, in the forest,
Sang at eve, when shadows lengthened,
Sang beside the birchen wigwam.
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